按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
aid a wager that she would ask for a day's leave of absencean enormity in so austere a munity。 The wager was accepted； but not one of those who bet believed that she would do it。
When the moment came； as the archbishop was passing in front of the pupils； Mademoiselle Bouchard； to the indescribable terror of her panions； stepped out of the ranks； and said； 〃Monseigneur； a day's leave of absence。〃
Mademoiselle Bouchard was tall； blooming； with the prettiest little rosy face in the world。 M。 de Quelen smiled and said； 〃What； my dear child； a day's leave of absence！
Three days if you like。
I grant you three days。〃 The prioress could do nothing； the archbishop had spoken。 Horror of the convent； but joy of the pupil。
The effect may be imagined。
This stern cloister was not so well walled off； however； but that the life of the passions of the outside world； drama； and even romance； did not make their way in。
To prove this； we will confine ourselves to recording here and to briefly mentioning a real and incontestable fact； which； however； bears no reference in itself to； and is not connected by any thread whatever with the story which we are relating。
We mention the fact for the sake of pleting the physiognomy of the convent in the reader's mind。
About this time there was in the convent a mysterious person who was not a nun； who was treated with great respect； and who was addressed as Madame Albertine。
Nothing was known about her； save that she was mad； and that in the world she passed for dead。 Beneath this history it was said there lay the arrangements of fortune necessary for a great marriage。
This woman； hardly thirty years of age； of dark plexion and tolerably pretty； had a vague look in her large black eyes。 Could she see？
There was some doubt about this。
She glided rather than walked； she never spoke； it was not quite known whether she breathed。
Her nostrils were livid and pinched as after yielding up their last sigh。
To touch her hand was like touching snow。 She possessed a strange spectral grace。
Wherever she entered； people felt cold。
One day a sister； on seeing her pass； said to another sister； 〃She passes for a dead woman。〃
〃Perhaps she is one；〃 replied the other。
A hundred tales were told of Madame Albertine。
This arose from the eternal curiosity of the pupils。
In the chapel there was a gallery called L'OEil de Boeuf。
It was in this gallery； which had only a circular bay； an oeil de boeuf； that Madame Albertine listened to the offices。
She always occupied it alone because this gallery； being on the level of the first story； the preacher or the officiating priest could be seen； which was interdicted to the nuns。 One day the pulpit was occupied by a young priest of high rank； M。 Le Duc de Rohan； peer of France； officer of the Red Musketeers in 1815 when he was Prince de Leon； and who died afterward； in 1830； as cardinal and Archbishop of Besancon。
It was the first time that M。 de Rohan had preached at the Petit…Picpus convent。 Madame Albertine usually preserved perfect calmness and plete immobility during the sermons and services。
That day； as soon as she caught sight of M。 de Rohan； she half rose； and said； in a loud voice； amid the silence of the chapel； 〃Ah！
Auguste！〃
The whole munity turned their heads in amazement； the preacher raised his eyes； but Madame Albertine had relapsed into her immobility。 A breath from the outer world； a flash of life； had passed for an instant across that cold and lifeless face and had then vanished； and the mad woman had bee a corpse again。
Those two words； however； had set every one in the convent who had the privilege of speech to chattering。
How many things were contained in that 〃Ah！
Auguste！〃 what revelations！
M。 de Rohan's name really was Auguste。
It was evident that Madame Albertine belonged to the very highest society； since she knew M。 de Rohan； and that her own rank there was of the highest； since she spoke thus familiarly of so great a lord； and that there existed between them some connection； of relationship； perhaps； but a very close one in any case； since she knew his 〃pet name。〃
Two very severe duchesses； Mesdames de Choiseul and de Serent； often visited the munity； whither they penetrated； no doubt； in virtue of the privilege Magnates mulieres； and caused great consternation in the boarding…school。 When these two old ladies passed by； all the poor young girls trembled and dropped their eyes。
Moreover； M。 de Rohan； quite unknown to himself； was an object of attention to the school…girls。 At that epoch he had just been made； while waiting for the episcopate； vicar…general of the Archbishop of Paris。
It was one of his habits to e tolerably often to celebrate the offices in the chapel of the nuns of the Petit…Picpus。 Not one of the young recluses could see him； because of the serge curtain； but he had a sweet and rather shrill voice； which they had e to know and to distinguish。
He had been a mousquetaire； and then； he was said to be very coquettish； that his handsome brown hair was very well dressed in a roll around his head； and that he had a broad girdle of magnificent moire； and that his black cassock was of the most elegant cut in the world。
He held a great place in all these imaginations of sixteen years。
Not a sound from without made its way into the convent。
But there was one year when the sound of a flute penetrated thither。 This was an event； and the girls who were at school there at the time still recall it。
It was a flute which was played in the neighborhood。
This flute always played the same air； an air which is very far away nowadays；〃My Zetulbe； e reign o'er my soul；〃and it was heard two or three times a day。
The young girls passed hours in listening to it； the vocal mothers were upset by it； brains were busy； punishments descended in showers。
This lasted for several months。 The girls were all more or less in love with the unknown musician。 Each one dreamed that she was Zetulbe。
The sound of the flute proceeded from the direction of the Rue Droit…Mur